Last night, some of our favorite people in the world joined us for our God’s Whisper tradition of a potluck and a bonfire.  We ate and talked and watched embers glow as the sun set.

What the Farm Has Taught Me about Sabbath

Mosey Knows How to Rest

Then, Henry and Dylan (age 8) began playing whiffle ball.  Dan and Philip and Joe (not age 8) joined in, and I found myself drawn to the game.  I hit a couple, but mostly I remembered that I knew how to throw a ball as I played catcher.

Suddenly, Meander and Mosey – their 39th wind kicking in – took to the chase, grabbing at the ball whenever it hit the ground, and then we were all chasing them.  I was laughing and running – playing like I had not in a long time.  It felt amazing.

As I fell asleep, I realized that I could not remember the last time I had just played.


Today, the farm stand is closed.  I am planning for some serious couch time with a needle, thread, and some sort of marathon. Philip will take rest in putting his workshop in order. Meander and Mosey will hold down a couch or a chair for most of the day.  Oh, and an ice cream run – definitely some ice cream, maybe even for the dogs.

We are sabbath-ing on the farm today.

I am not – as is the case for many humans, it seems – good at taking rest. I can always find something else that needs to be done and probably done now.  I carry around a little bit of guilt when I’m not being productive.  I feel behind if I’m not getting ahead.

One thing a farm instills like nothing else I’ve found in life is the firm understanding that rest is necessary.  As my daddy says, ‘You can’t go all the time.” 

Here at God’s Whisper, we really could work every daylight hour and still have more to do. We have a pergola and patio to clean up and landscape. The banks from along the driveway would benefit from a light tilling and some wildflower seed.  The garden always has weeds. The animals could always use more attention (Boone is getting some pretty fierce dreadlocks in his fur).

But because this work never ends, we HAVE to force ourselves to stop, rest, wander, relax, and let our bodies and spirits recover. 


 At this very moment, Mosey is curled onto of a throw pillow in my grandfather’s leather wingback chair, and he’s dreaming . . . audibly.  We had a ridiculously busy day yesterday – big yard sale in the morning plus the farm stand plus that barbecue and wiffle ball last night.   The day before was the prep for all those things.  So Mosey is planning – as much as dogs plan – for a restful day.

Meander and Philip are in bed. I am on the couch doing what gives me rest . . . a few minutes with words.  Then, I plan to watch cooking shoes and revel in my fall seed catalog.

I also think I’m taking Philip on in a little one-on-one wiffle ball action . . . if we can keep the dogs from forcing us into keep away instead.

Goodness, I’m looking forward to today’s rest and play.

May your Sunday involve just enough time for you to put up your feet, just enough play to get your lungs open with laughter, and just enough joy to carry you through the week.


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